


A Hundred Sunny Days (Spent With You)

by d_tuo



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora - hot and stupid, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, AtLA AU, Avatar Adora, Best Friends Squad, Bow and Glimmer are too sweet, Catra - redeemed little shit (eventually), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Firebender Catra, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Right?, Slow Burn, cursing and lots and lots of violence, fighting with your ex-best friend is flirting, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_tuo/pseuds/d_tuo
Summary: When Adora recalls this moment days later, she will spend hours agonizing over the motion of her arms, how her torso twisted and her feet danced. Something about the fluid form will feel achingly familiar and peripheral, like a hundred sunny days spent napping in soft grass. Looking back, Adora will realize that her body simply copied a basic drill she had watched Catra perform countless of times.Orange and yellow fire escapes from Adora’s hand.or: Former Fire Nation soldier Adora discovers that she is the Avatar.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

Adora realizes two things simultaneously:

Earth bending doesn’t grant you the talent for rock climbing, ironically. And falling to your death isn’t so bad when the view looks this good.

Just as both of Adora’s footholds crumble beneath her, Catra swings out an arm, swiftly and leisurely in a manner only she can achieve, to catch Adora’s hand.

Against her better judgment, Adora glances past her idle feet to the ground at least twenty feet below them. Maybe she over exaggerated. A fall like that wouldn’t kill. But it would _hurt_.

“Have you been eating rocks, Adora?”

She looks up. Afternoon sunlight slants across Catra’s face, highlighting the freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose. She clings to the cliffside confidently, limbs outstretched to rest on indiscernible pits and ledges. She’d traded in her stiff soldier uniform for loose pants and a tight, crimson shirt.

Yeah, the view is nice.

“No, but I bet they taste better than the rations during winter,” Adora says, smiling lopsidedly at her. “Are you going to pull me up?”

Catra arches an eyebrow and her eyes get an all too familiar glint in them like a cat about to spring from the bushes. “Remember that time you ate _my_ share of fire gummies?”

Adora groans, wiping her face with her free hand. Not this again. “I told you I’d buy you more the next time we go to the market.”

Catra sways her arm casually and Adora didn’t realize how sweaty her palm is until she feels herself slipping. She yelps and Catra throws her head back, laughing.

“I am _so_ going to get you for this,” Adora mutters. With gritted teeth, she swings her other arm up to grab Catra’s forearm and pulls herself up, ignoring her best friend’s squawking _, you’re gonna pull my whole arm off!_

She somehow ends up higher than Catra and uses her shoulder as an extra boost to the cliff’s edge. She scrabbles for a moment when her balance is thrown off with Catra’s struggle to push her away, but heaves herself up and rolls away with a sigh. She’s spread eagle on the soft grass when Catra looms over her, arms crossed and electricity practically shooting out of mismatched eyes.

“You owe me a new shirt, too,” she grouses, but Adora knows the bad mood won’t last when Catra settles into the space beside her, yawning and stretching underneath the warm sun. Her shirt rides up and Adora’s eyes dart away. Were clouds always this interesting? Oh! That looks like a turtle duck! Wait, maybe it’s a platypus bear?

Sunny days and fresh grass are Catra’s favorites, and Adora is more than happy to let her doze off. It’s rare that they get to have days-off like these. In between training and schooling, there is hardly any time at all to leave the Royal Fire Academy. Even more so now that Shadow Weaver decided it was time for Adora to assume greater responsibilities as her promotion to captain became imminent.

Adora sits up and scoots closer to Catra, who’d already fallen asleep on her belly. She knows Shadow Weaver meant well with the pushing and extra attention. She just wants Adora to succeed and the support means a lot to her, but even she has to admit that being under Shadow Weaver’s watchful eye could get stifling. 

Adora smiles as Catra rolls to her side, eyes still closed. Shadow Weaver isn’t here. Neither is Lonnie, or Kyle, or anyone. It’s just the two of them for miles and Adora feels free enough to lightly trace the pale scars crisscrossing her friend’s arm. They rest like that for a while, Catra snoring lightly and Adora’s finger outlining shapes into tan skin. It’s peaceful. She savors the moment for as long as it’ll last.

Her hand freezes over Catra’s elbow when she smells smoke. She swivels her head, searching the horizon curiously, but all she can see is blue until _there!_ Framed by two towering trees, a billowing column of black smoke rises in the distance. Adora already knows what it means. Smoke that thick and rampant could only come from firebenders of Fire Lord Hordak’s army

She shakes Catra and doesn’t stop until the other girl blearily opens her eyes. She points to the smoke. “Where is that?”

Scowling, Catra stretches her neck to look past Adora. “I don’t know. Thaymor?”

Adora snorts. Catra is brilliant, but also a total sleepy dork. “No, Thaymor is _next_ week.”

Catra groans and rolls over. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Adora pauses, feeling a twinge of guilt for bringing it up. Catra’s still upset that Shadow Weaver won’t let her join the assault. It is the reason why Adora suggested they hang out at the cliff. It was meant to cheer up her best friend.

She touches Catra’s shoulder, lightly, but just enough to make the other girl look at her. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I promise I’ll talk Shadow Weaver into letting you join the next one. You’ll be my strategist.”

“I’ll be your _best_ strategist,” Catra corrects and she sits up to join Adora. She crosses an ankle over her leg and rests an elbow on her knee. “It’s probably some village in Plumeria. See the walls?”

She hadn’t noticed them at first, but after Catra points them out, the tall rock structures are obvious. The work of earthbenders, most likely soldiers deployed from the Earth Kingdom capital, Plumeria. She wonders how many soldiers Princess Perfuma spared to defend their hold on the village. Based on the reports she’d read and the recent captain briefings she’d attended, Plumeria’s stranglehold on numerous villages and towns at the border between the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom was weakening as Fire Lord Hordak’s forces advanced.

Adora feels a swell of pride as the towering smoke gradually turns grey. She imagines the faces of the villagers, terrified at first, peering through curtains and doorways, to see that the fighting had stopped. They’d come out hesitantly, one by one, to realize that Fire Lord Hordak’s side, the side of good and justice, had won and the villagers would cheer with joy and relief. Finally! They were free. There’d be celebration! Colorful banners and happy children and dancing like she’s seen in the market during holidays.

Her reverie is short-lived when she remembers that in a week’s time, she would be leading a charge into Thaymor. People are counting on her. Their success is dependent on how well she can lead. Her skin prickles with anxiety and she’s struck with the desperate wish that Catra would be with her during the attack. She entertains the thought of asking, even begging, for Shadow Weaver’s permission, but quickly dismisses it. It would be selfish to endanger Catra’s life for such a petty reason.

“Hey, you alright?”

Adora sighs and leans back gently, grass tickling her neck. If she focuses hard enough on the bright blue above, she can almost believe that everything will be fine. “Yeah, just nervous about next week.” She feels Catra lie next to her.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll kick rebel butts and save the day,” Catra says, voice low, but playful and confident. “And if you get stuck—which you won’t because no one’s studied maps and formations harder than you have—just give me a signal and I’ll rescue you.”

Soft laughter bubbles up from Adora’s chest. “Oh, yeah? What kind of signal?”

“Earthbend a giant statue of me. Or shoot a firework into the sky with my face on it. I’m not picky.”

They lay like that, giggling and whispering nonsense as if they were back in their bunk beds, until the sky turns rosy and the sun dips below mountain ranges and they can’t ignore the grumbling in their stomachs anymore.

“Alright, I gotta admit,” Catra says, taking a step back to admire her work. “You look pretty badass.”

Adora strikes her most _captain-ly_ pose, chest puffed out and hands on her hips. “I do look pretty great, don’t I?” She stands in front of the mirror, shifting her stance every once in a while, so the golden tracing on the armor can catch the sunlight just right and _sparkle_.

The right of Adora’s reflection fills with Catra’s figure. She’s wearing her armor, too, with the same golden tracings, except the skirt is shorter and the fire emblem is red instead of gold like Adora’s. Catra adjusts her headpiece casually, though Adora doubts it needed fixing anyway, then crosses her arms and cocks her hips. She smirks, meeting Adora’s eyes in the mirror. “Those rebels won’t know what hit them.”

“Yeah,” Adora says softly, trying to match Catra’s confidence, but failing. She fidgets with her belt, fingers running back and forth along the leather. “I really wish you were there with me,” she blurts out to Catra’s reflection. She feels her face begin to flush. 

Catra rolls her eyes, but her smirk tugs into a genuine smile. “ _Tch_ , don’t get all mushy on me now. Like you said, I’ll be on the next one.”

 _But it’s not the same. I need you now_ , Adora wants to say, but she can’t because this is her mission and she needs to be strong. She settles with: “Yeah…you will be.”

There’s a knock on the door, sharp and succinct, and Adora knows it’s Shadow Weaver waiting to collect her.

“Hey, Adora.”

Her hand hovers over the door handle. She turns to look at Catra and the anxiety she felt earlier, at the cliffs, returns. It’s stronger this time, a frantic thrumming in her chest and she suddenly has the terrible thought that she needs to memorize this image of Catra. Her brow, creased slightly in worry, is softened by an easy smile. Hands on her hips and weight borne on one side casually like she couldn’t be rushed, like they had more time. She thinks Catra looks resplendent in this moment of soft light and peace between them.

“If you need me, I’ll be there. No matter what.”

Shadow Weaver’s pep talk on the way to the tanks clears her head, but does little to quell the mounting unease in her chest.

“This is your chance to prove your value to Fire Lord Hordak,” Shadow Weaver had said, a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You are so close, Adora. You must not let _distractions_ deter you from your mission.”

They leave at midday. With the speed of their tanks and Komodo rhinos, they’d arrive near Thaymor by nightfall where Adora’s small company of forty benders and non-benders will rest before preparing for their attack.

Adora rides in front of the unit, atop a snuffling Komodo rhino. Flanking either side of her, are flag bearers hoisting the proud banners of the Fire Nation. Several higher-ranking officers under Adora’s command travel behind her on Komodo rhinos while the regular soldiers sit in tanks at the tail end of the company. With Catra’s help, Adora had drafted a route away from the popular merchant roads and into less inhabited territory that still allowed the cavalry to travel quickly.

She stares straight ahead. Her hands tightly grip the reins as she reviews every bit of information given to her. Thaymor is a highly fortified rebel fortress, sitting in the cusp of the Earth Kingdom and Southern Air Temple. Due to its geography, no distinct group claimed power over it. Instead, it is shared by earthbenders, airbenders, and even waterbenders ever since the union between Queen Angella and King Micah, a former water tribe chief.

Adora chooses to rest in a clearing about two miles from the fortress. The dense canopy hides their fires and the occasional bellows from the Komodo rhinos blend in with the nocturnal forest creatures. With a stomp and the push of her fist, Adora pulls an outcropping of rock from the ground to hide the tanks. 

_Morale seems high_ , Adora gladly notes, as she walks around the clearing. They’d traveled faster than expected and her unit is happy to have more time for rest. She is tempted to unroll her maps and scrolls, but Catra’s words “ _no one’s studied maps and formations harder than you_ _have”_ compel her to enjoy the company of her soldiers instead. 

Dinner is a pleasant affair, with bread and hot stew. Adora jumps from one campfire to another, sharing jokes and trading stories. She’d anticipated colder attitudes from the soldiers because it was no secret that this is her first military excursion, but they are warm and crass in a way that reminds her of Catra. 

The fires are soon put out except for one and those who wish to sleep before the fight roll out mats while others gather in clusters near the fire, quietly playing card games. Adora rests her mat by the edge of the clearing where a patch in the canopy reveals the night sky.

She wonders if Catra is in her own bed in the barracks or had chosen to sleep in Adora’s private room. They’d taken to having sleepovers whenever Catra could sneak out ever since Shadow Weaver awarded her a personal dorm six months ago. Before that, they shared bunk beds.

Sleep is hard to come by and Adora only succeeds in forcing her body still until it is time to prepare. Her officers rise with her and they review once more around the single campfire before they disperse. Adora mounts the Komodo rhino and steers it out of the clearing to the path. It’s only a few hours before dawn, but the sky is dark and overcast. The cover of the night would give their surprise attack more leverage against the heavily protected fortress.

They travel Adora’s way, hidden from view, to the base of a hill. She watches the tanks separate from the unit to move around the hill. Upon her command, they’d attack the western side of Thaymor where a river carved its way around the fortress walls. She expects the tanks’ long-distance artillery to hold better against waterbenders than the Komodo rhinos. 

Adora urges her beast forward to the crest of the hill and stops to survey the wall surrounding Thaymor. It’s as tall as the noble palaces in the Fire Nation, but she’s confident the tanks could tow themselves up using grappling hooks. The wall is smooth, impenetrable, and the only entrance and exit will open at dawn by a team of earthbenders. But Adora is not willing to wait.

At her signal, the Komodo rhinos begin to gallop down the hill. A cloud of dirt kicks up as they hurtle through the well-traveled road. Adora veers to the right, away from the unit, and jumps off, rolling to absorb the impact. She stands, shifting her feet to a strong stance, then raises her hands.

By the time the guards realize what is happening, it’s too late.

Adora turns her palms inward and thrusts outward with her wrists. At the same time, she steps forward, leaning with her body. There’s a moment of resistance; a jolt of fear through her gut. Then the momentum is enough to blast a hole into Thaymor’s wall and she opens her eyes in time to watch her unit storm the fortress, whooping and hollering.

Panting from the adrenaline, she clambers onto the Komodo rhino. A rebel guard greets her at the entrance with a cluster of pointed rocks. She flattens herself against the saddle, hearing the projectiles whistle past her. She straightens her back, releasing the reins, and throws her fists down. Four slabs of earth trap the man, leaving only his head at the top of the pyramid to shout curses at her back.

She slows her Komodo rhino to a trot, mindful of the craters pockmarking the ground. Squat buildings on either side of the street burn viciously. The air is feverish and tight with smoke. Tendrils of flames reach down from the rooftops like hands threatening to snatch Adora up. But she pays them no mind. Instead, she stares hard at the buildings around her, puzzled by their embellishments. Rectangles of charred wood hang above each doorway, reminding her of the business signs she’d seen in the Fire Nation markets. Further down the road, where the blaze was weaker, strings of paper lanterns connected buildings. In one building, crookedly cut butterflies were plastered all over the windowpane, filling every space. Adora finds it odd that rebel fighters were allowed time to decorate their barracks with papercrafts.

She’d expected to be swarmed by rebels, but it seems that their surprise attack was enough to drive them further into the fortress. She rounds the corner, into a street untouched by the fire, and sees the first body.

The shock of it sends her scrambling off the beast. As she gets closer, she sees that it’s a woman with graying hair and glassy eyes. Her tunic is drenched in blood from a slash to her neck. In her limp hand is a piece of parchment. Adora gently unfurls the fingers and brings the paper to the light. It’s a painted picture of a man holding two young children. Adora drops the picture as if it burns her. She swallows the bile rising in her throat.

This woman wasn’t a rebel soldier. She stands up, searching for the Komodo rhino, but it must’ve continued on without her because the street is empty except for her and the dead woman. These buildings aren’t barracks or storages or anything remotely expected of a military fortress. What is this place? What is going on?

She hears screaming nearby and takes off towards it, feet pounding and heart thumping. The street divides into an intersection and she sees the Fire Nation uniforms first. Their backs are towards her, but she recognizes the whip one of them is brandishing. It belongs to a fair-headed man not much older than her who told corny jokes at the campfire. She guesses the other soldier is his close friend, the only airbender on the team, because the pair never once left each other’s side during the journey.

The airbender shifts her stance, just enough to reveal who stood on the other side and Adora’s heart reacts before she’s fully processed what she’s seen.

_“Stop! Leave them!”_

The soldiers turn, startled to hear their leader’s voice. The man with the whip steps forward, gaping. “Captain Adora—”

“We don’t attack civilians,” Adora shouts. Her voice is commanding, steely, but her knees shake. 

“They are rebels, Captain,” the man says, confused. “We were ordered to dispose of all of them.”

“I ordered you to fight rebel _soldiers_.” The fluttering in her head eases slightly as she watches the trio of teenagers escape. She clenches her fists, scanning the buildings around them. “The information we were given was inaccurate. We were led to believe this was only a military base.” 

She doesn’t miss the shared glance between the soldiers. She raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

The airbender speaks first, hesitantly. “Captain, with all due respect, the information is—is reliable. We understand that this is your first mission—” 

“No,” Adora insists, shaking her head. “It’s wrong.” Why couldn’t they understand this? It made no sense that they were sent here to attack a _village_. The Fire Nation stood for honor and justice and liberation. They were supposed to be helping people, not killing them. “The objective remains, we will take Thaymor, but you will harm _no one_." 

“That’s impossible—” 

But Adora ignores their protests and turns into a wider street. She sees plumes of fire on the other end and forces her feet to a sprint. She counts five of her soldiers encircling a fountain in the middle of the square. A short girl and tall boy armed with a bow stand back-to-back within the circle. Pools of water float above the girl, lashing down to parry the firebender’s strikes. To Adora’s horror, a group of children and adults cower against the rim of the fountain. 

Adora jumps and lands on both feet forcefully. Like a wave sent forth from her body, the ground beneath the soldiers shift and crumble, sending them toppling over. The wave splits as it reaches the waterbender and archer, creating a perfect circle around them and the fountain. 

Adora hears one of the soldiers cry, “The captain’s gone mad!” 

Another screams: “She’s with the rebels!”

She holds up her hands. “Wait! You don’t understand—” But the pleas die in her throat at the mutiny on their faces. With a sinking feeling, she sees the people she laughed with hours ago begin to surround her like a pack of bitter wolves.

“Anyone ever told you to never turn your back against the enemy?”

Adora hears the strained sound of metal twisting, then tons of gallons of water burst from the fountain to sweep the soldiers off their feet. The boy with the bow ushers the villagers into a street while the girl redirects the flood away from them.

The girl begins to run after the villagers, but stops and meets Adora’s eyes across the square. In the waning darkness, the girl’s short, bushy hair is pastel pink. She’s wearing a blue anorak. “You should come with us,” she says. 

The boy glances at her, brow crinkling in uncertainty. “Uh, is that a good idea, Glimmer?”

Adora hears her whisper hotly, “Trust me, Bow. I have a good feeling about her.”

Adora doesn’t say anything. She knows this is—is treason. She’s letting people down, abandoning her unit, but she has to find answers. She doubts her voice is strong enough to carry words right now. So she just nods.

Thaymor only has one official entrance, the boy—Bow—explains. But according to some of the villagers, another one was secretly built for emergencies in a nondescript tea shop. The villagers who knew the way lead and Bow, Adora, and the pink-haired girl—Glimmer, she recalls—follow at the back of the group. They enter a quiet, lonely street. Away from the fires, the air is cool and carries the scent of smoke. Streamers and glass ornaments flutter and twirl on tree branches.

A single green and brown building with a picture of a teacup carved above its door sits flush against the giant wall. The trio stand guard while the villagers file into the shop. An elderly man with a face full of liver spots stops at the threshold and clutches Adora’s arm. 

“My grandchildren are still out there,” he wheezes, staring at Adora with blown pupils. “There are more people. Please, don’t leave them.”

Adora squeezes his hand. “We’ll get them back safely.” 

With the last of the villagers inside, Glimmer deflates with a sigh, leaning against the building. “We have to search the entire place. _Again_.”

“What kind of military base is this?” Adora asks, scanning the street for soldiers. 

Bow shakes his head. “It isn’t. Thaymor used to be a normal village, but ever since the Fire Nation began capturing towns at the border this wall was built and guards were called in for protection.”

“There are no soldiers here. Only regular people and their families,” Glimmer says, pinning Adora with a hard look. It isn’t accusatory, but it may as well be. This was Adora’s mission, after all. She’d planned this. 

She feels her legs suddenly go weak and she has to steady herself against the building. “I don’t—” Her breath hitches at the sound of shouting. She clenches her fist, forcing down the confusion that made her lightheaded. She still has more questions than answers, but she has to focus. “I’ll create a diversion, draw them away. You guys find any survivors and bring them back here.”

Bow and Glimmer nod grimly. They go their separate ways. A streak of orange and pink marks the horizon, signaling dawn’s coming. Adora moves quickly down the street, ducking behind a cart when a group of soldiers come into view. They are running towards the tea shop and, before they can reach it, Adora scrambles out, waving her arms and shouting, “Hey! Woo-hoo! Traitor over here! Catch me if you can!” 

She doesn’t dare look back, terrified that she’ll lose her footing. She passes more soldiers as she darts between buildings and across streets. News of her betrayal at the fountain must’ve spread because the mere sight of her creates a frenzy amongst the soldiers and they abandon whatever they’re doing to chase after her.

The thunderous stampede of Komodo rhinos drives her aching legs faster. She can’t outrun those beasts. They’d catch up to her sooner rather than later. Her mind races as fast as her heart, struggling to come up with a new plan. 

_If you need me, I’ll be there_.

She doesn’t break her pace as she throws out the heel of her hand and a wall of rock erupts out of the street, separating her and the soldiers. It buys her enough time to scoop up an armful of fireworks from a display outside of a store and duck into an alley before the wall is pulverized by the Komodo rhinos. 

Adora works deftly as the soldiers flood in, shouting ideas of where she could’ve gone. Her fingers are trembling from adrenaline and fear. She angles a trio of rockets at the sky and it takes her several swipes to light the matchstick.

All three rockets shoot up with a whistle and she prays that Catra will get the message even if it doesn’t have her face on it. 

“There she is!”

The rockets explode into dazzling clouds of purple, green, and gold, followed by a _boom!_ so deep she could feel it in her chest. The soldiers freeze, stunned by the display, and she bends a ring of rock around them, like a miniature version of Thaymor’s wall. She punches the ground, forming a pit in the ring too deep for anyone to climb out of.

Adora jogs away, allowing herself time to catch her breath. The group in the pit only made up a third of her unit. There would be more deeper in the village and she has to draw them out so Glimmer and Bow can do their work. Feeling more brazen now, she taunts any soldiers she encounters into a game of cat and elephant rat, and, soon enough, she’s the subject of yet another angry mob.

“I’m getting—pretty good—at this,” Adora pants, hurtling over overturned boxes and sidestepping rubble. The horde behind her lags farther and farther away. An overturned cart blocks her path and she pushes against the edge to launch herself up and over it. “Oh, that was _so_ _cool_.”

She doesn’t know how long she keeps going, but she guesses it's been a while because it’s early morning now. The sky is brilliantly blue and the rising sun paints gold clouds into its depths. Without the Komodo rhinos, the Fire Nation soldiers can’t match her stride and she loses them with one more winding path through the village. She finds her way back to that lonely street, where the tea shop is.

To her relief, Glimmer and Bow are waiting for her. A notched arrow is pointed at her face, but Bow quickly lowers it when he recognizes her.

“That’s all of the villagers we could find,” Glimmer says, opening the door. “We have to go now.” 

Adora starts to follow them, but realizes she can’t move her legs. They’re aching and sore, but the heaviness in her heart tells her that the marathon she ran isn’t the reason for her hesitation. She knows she’s floundering and they don’t have time and Bow and Glimmer are looking at her weird, but she doesn’t care because there’s something missing— _someone_ missing.

“Adora!”

Bow notches an arrow and Glimmer raises her fists.

Adora whirls around to meet blue and yellow eyes across the street.

Catra is looking at her strangely, brow furrowed and jaw clenched. She sits atop a mongoose lizard, dressed in full armor. “What the fuck is going on, Adora?” She shouts and Adora is taken by surprise at the fury in her voice. “Why is everyone saying you’re a _traitor_?” 

Her brain is slow to react. She stumbles forward. “You saw the fireworks. You came.” 

“Of course I did,” Catra growls. She jumps off the beast and lands gracefully. When she stands, balls of fire are spitting from her hands. “You’re in one hell of a mess, but—” her voice cracks and it makes Adora want to reach out. “But we can fix it. You’re Shadow Weaver’s favorite, maybe she can—"

Adora draws her hand back to her side. There’s a raw lump in her throat, but she shakes her head, resolute in her decision. “I can’t go back, Catra. They’ve been lying to us this whole time,” she says, stepping closer and clenching her fists. “The Fire Nation hasn’t been freeing people; they’ve been destroying homes and ending lives.”

Catra barks out a laugh. “And you’re _just_ realizing this?” 

Adora recoils. She feels like she’s been thrown into icy water, breathless. “You knew?” 

“C’mon, Adora, did you seriously believe that Hordak’s agenda is to save the world?”

Adora steps back, towards Glimmer and Bow. Her voice is hard. “I’m sorry, Catra, but I’m not going.”

Catra leans forward, pulling her lips back into a snarl, and suddenly, for the first time in her life, Adora is struck with a deep fear for her best friend. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

Catra leaps into the air, twisting. A stream of red and orange fire explodes from her outstretched foot and Adora pushes Glimmer and Bow out of the way.

“Why are the scariest people always _fire_ benders?” Bow screams.

“I should’ve brought more water!”

The trio scurries away from the tea shop and into the street. Catra springs forward and lands with her arms swooping outward. A carpet of fire rushes from her hands and Adora just barely pulls up a rocky shield in time to protect them.

 _We can’t run_ , Adora thinks, as they huddle behind the rock. _She’s too fast_.

She curls her fingers and pushes the shield with the palm of her hand, propelling it forward. Catra swiftly sidesteps it and attacks with a flurry of punches and kicks, fire billowing from every strike.

Adora can barely defend themselves against Catra’s rage, much less fight back, and they end up trapped between Thaymor’s wall and fire. What little water Glimmer had in her pouch evaporates as soon as it meets a current of fire. Bow lets a few arrows fly, but Catra incinerates them before they can reach their target.

Catra swings her fist down, releasing a curl of fire, and they’re forced to jump away, Adora to the right and the other two to the left. With their group divided, Catra has to split her attention between them and Adora seizes the opportunity to counterattack.

She stomps forward, bending low to the ground, and a column shoots out where Catra stands. It startles her and she’s launched into the air. But instead of sending her flying away as Adora had hoped, Catra somersaults, using the momentum to gather a great cloud of fire.

Adora lurches to the side, pulling a rocky shelf over them as the fire presses down. She grits her teeth against the heat, feeling it graze her arm sleeves. Bow and Glimmer hold onto each other, shrieking.

When the fire clears, Catra is standing a few yards away, panting. “Just…stop,” she says and Adora thinks her voice sounds threadbare. Small.

“ _Please_ , Catra,” she begs, rising from their shelter. The grass around them is burning. She’s coughing from the smoke, but her gaze remains steadfastly on Catra. “I have to do this.”

Catra’s eyes flash venomously. “What about your home, Adora? What about your friends and your work? What about—” Catra stops, eyes wide, and there’s a strangled sound, a whimper, maybe, like the word is being clawed down her belly.

 _What about_ me _?_

Adora’s vision blurs with tears. “I have to do this,” she repeats. A pause, then, “Come with us.” 

“I will _never_ go with you,” Catra screams. She’s winding her fist back and Adora plants her feet, preparing for the blow. Catra’s eyes dart to the left, and she shifts at the last instant, aiming towards Glimmer and Bow. 

Adora’s body moves without thought.

When she recalls this moment days later, she will spend hours agonizing over the motion of her arms, how her torso twisted and her feet danced. Something about the fluid form will feel achingly familiar and peripheral, like a hundred sunny days spent napping in soft grass. Looking back, Adora will realize that her body simply copied a basic drill she had watched Catra perform countless of times.

Orange and yellow fire escapes from Adora’s hand. It rushes to greet Catra, enveloping her so strongly that it sends her crashing into the side of a building.

The air stills. Adora can only hear the sound of her heavy breathes and, beneath it, her own thundering heartbeat.

She numbly registers the feel of gentle hands pulling her back. Colors and light and sound jumble together and it takes Adora too long to realize that she’s trudging through a dense forest. Bow and Glimmer are on either side of her, supporting her slack weight, and it’s an awkward position because Glimmer is so much shorter than Bow, but Adora appreciates the gesture because her head is so light, she’s sure it’ll fly away at any moment like a spooked bird.

They find refuge in a cool, dry cave. Time passes. A fire is started. A bowl is pressed into her hands and Adora slowly brings it to her lips after some coaxing from Bow. She doesn’t say anything when Glimmer wraps an anorak around her shoulders. She just closes her eyes and sleeps.


	2. Chapter 2

Adora wakes up to the smell of cooking meat. She pushes herself up, groggily looking at the light dancing on the walls of the cave. She feels like she’s been trampled by a herd of Komodo rhinos and, well, given what’d happened in Thaymor, she guesses the reality isn’t so far off. She rubs the crust and sleep from her eyes.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Glimmer appears in front of her. “We made breakfast.”

“Whaaaaa…? Adora says intelligibly.

“Some fruit, bread.” Bow joins them, carrying a small burlap sack of food. He lays it out between them. “Thought we needed something a bit heartier, so I went out to the woods to catch something. Rabbit?”

Adora takes the rabbit leg from him and bites. Bow and Glimmer talk quietly, but Adora doesn’t join. She doesn’t bother paying attention either. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was and finishes her share of bread, meat, and apples before anyone else. After the leftovers are put away, Glimmer and Bow sit, cross-legged, in front of her.

“Soooo?” Bow starts, looking at her expectantly.

Adora’s eyebrows knit together. “So…?”

Bow leans forward, nodding encouragingly. “Sooo?”

Adora glances at Glimmer who offers her a big, supportive smile.

“I’m…the Avatar?”

She guesses it’s the answer they’ve been waiting for because Glimmer squeals and Bow pumps his fist in the air, hollering, “ _So cool!”_

Adora smiles despite the churning in her stomach. These two are sweet. Excitement like theirs was rare in the Academy. Glimmer asks, a bit timid now, “How are you feeling?”

That’s the question of the century, isn’t it? Abandoning the only home she’s ever known, discovering that she’s the latest reincarnation of a line of powerful benders. Everything feels like a dream, blurry and out of her depth. And those are the least of her worries because she just lost her best friend in a fiery showdown. Most likely, seriously injured her. The thought makes her heart ache and eyes prick with tears.

Did Catra really know about the truth of the Fire Nation this whole time? And how could Adora not see it?

She pulls her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Like my whole life has been a lie,” she mumbles. “Like I’m the world’s biggest idiot.”

“Hey, you can’t blame yourself,” Bow says gently. “Propaganda is a powerful tool. It’s hard to believe otherwise when you’ve been brainwashed your whole life.”

“How did you end up in the Fire Nation?” Glimmer asks.

“I was an orphan,” Adora says, staring at the tops of her boots. “Most of the soldiers are. We’re taken in by the state and raised in the military, no matter what our bending is.” She realizes she still has her armor on. She used to be so proud to wear it, but now it feels like a weight on her shoulders. “Shadow Weaver said Fire Nation soldiers found me in a crib in an abandoned town. I was crying and they heard me.”

Glimmer reaches out to touch her arm. Adora gives her a small, grateful smile.

“You have a place with us now,” Bow says, opening his arms wide as if he’ll gather them up into a giant hug.

Adora can’t help herself. She wraps her arms around the two strangers who have shown her such warmth and kindness. “Thank you guys so much.” The bone-deep weariness is still there. So is her heart’s burning affliction. But hope works as a balm to soothe the loneliness in her chest.

The Fire Nation soldiers are long gone by the time they leave the cave. Looking at the grey smoke spiraling from what was once Thaymor, Adora vows to right the Fire Nation’s wrongs, to bring justice and peace. She will become the hero everyone needs.

They hike through the woods to where Bow and Glimmer left their ostrich horses. Melding into the pair’s dynamic is natural, Adora finds. She asks question after question. _Woah, what animal is that? Is that traditional water tribe clothing or do you choose to cut your shirt that short, Bow?_ _Can you tell me about the rebellion?_ Bow and Glimmer answer eagerly and with many details. She learns that Glimmer gestures animatedly when she speaks and Bow loves to act stories out with dramatic voices.

The pair is relieved to find their ostrich horses still pecking in the field they left them in. The ostrich horse was only meant for one rider, so Adora has to squeeze in with Glimmer. The beast’s sloping behind puts her at risk of getting a face full of dirt, and Adora has to scoot her butt up often and hold on tightly with her knees. It’s a smooth trot through the countryside, passing rice fields and gently sloping hills, to the Southern Air Temple where Bow and Glimmer live.

“I grew up in the Southern Water Tribes with my dads and siblings,” Bow had said as he showed her a picture of two smiling men on their trek to the ostrich horses. “But I moved to the temples when I joined the rebellion.”

“I’ve lived in the Air Temple my whole life. My dad was from the Southern Water Tribes, too, but left when he married my mom.” Glimmer sighed. The corners of her mouth tugged downward. “He died when I was really young, fighting the Fire Nation. I got my waterbending from him.”

A sliver of guilt embedded itself into Adora’s skin at the melancholy look in Glimmer’s eyes. How many lives has Adora helped destroy because she was too blind to see the Fire Nation’s cruelty? Doubt and fear coiled in her gut like writhing eels. Sure, she’s the Avatar now, but that didn’t guarantee her strength or success.

Adora’s eyes widen. _I’m the Avatar._ The reality of it hadn’t hit her until now and she nearly falls off the ostrich horse. Glimmer glances over her shoulder, confused. Adora gives her a _very_ confident thumbs-up as if saying _all good back here!_ She slouches as soon as Glimmer looks away.

Is she the punchline of some cosmic joke? Adora desperately tries not to sweat through her armor as yet another armada of questions slams into her. Do most Avatars start their training at seventeen years old or is she behind? She’s probably—no, definitely—behind. Who will be her teachers? Does she have to send out job postings? Will flyers be okay or is that not professional enough? Is this more of an audition-style selection process, or interview?

She’s so preoccupied with writing a job description in her head that she doesn’t notice the abrupt change in scenery until a wispy cloud floats idly past her ankle. Adora makes the mistake of looking down. Her eyes bulge out of her head.

“ _Woah_. We are _really_ high up.”

Glimmer hums in agreement. “The Air Nomads have a thing for mountains. The temple used to only be accessible by flying bison, but we’ve updated since then to make things convenient for non-airbenders.”

Adora squints at the sheer thousand-foot drop over the edge of the narrow, winding path. Rebels must have a different definition of convenience. Returning home seems to fill Glimmer with excitement because her gesticulations become more vigorous by the second. “This is going to be _so_ good for the Alliance,” Glimmer gushes. “The others have to join now that the Avatar is here.”

To Adora’s dismay, Glimmer punctuates her words with a double fist pump, jostling her. As if staying on the ostrich horse wasn’t bad enough. She holds on for dear life. “Alliance?” She squeaks.

_"Princess_ Alliance,” Bow supplies, reaching out to poke a finger through a puffy cloud. “Between the major nations in the world. It was established years ago when the Fire Nation started to get, uh…hostile.”

“Technically, only the Earth Kingdom and Northern Water Tribe have princesses.” Glimmer shrugs. “But the members of the alliance have always been daughters of important leaders, so the name just kind of stuck.” The enthusiasm suddenly drains out of Glimmer and her shoulders sag slightly. “I _really_ hope we can bring it back.”

When Glimmer doesn’t continue, Adora shoots a confused look at Bow.

“After a bad—and I mean _bad_ —Fire Nation attack a few years ago, a lot of people lost hope and the Princess Alliance disbanded,” Bow explains. “The only members left are Glimmer, Netossa, Spinnerella, and—”

“My mom,” Glimmer finishes glumly. “And she doesn’t count because she’s the _queen_.”

“Queen Angella, right?” Adora asks. “Of the airbenders?”

Both Glimmer and Bow frown at her.

“How much do you know about the Air Nomads?” Bow asks hesitantly.

“They’re a highly advanced militaristic society whose leaders assume power through coups,” Adora answers confidently. After all, she did really well in _Comparative World Government and Culture Studies_. She was the only reason Catra scraped by in that course. “In their free time, Air Nomads wrestle and hunt for sport.”

All Bow says is, “Oh, _wow_.”

Glimmer snorts into the palm of her hand.

Adora feels like she’s missing something. “What?”

Bow steers his ostrich horse right beside theirs and pats her arm comfortingly. “We’re going to spend a lot of time in the library.” He purses his lips. “And maybe don’t mention the coup part to Glimmer’s mom.”

“Oh, okay.” Adora nods eagerly. “Yeah, I can do that.”

They ride the rest of the way in silence. She cranes her neck, marveling at the mountains and pillars of rock around them. The stone here is an unusual color—so white that it’s almost blue—and Adora wonders how well it will bend to her touch. Birds dot the sky, careening through air currents and clouds. Her mouth falls open when a hulking mass of shaggy fur soars overhead.

Glimmer laughs at the flying beast and waves her hand.

They push through a thick shroud of fog, and, once again, Adora is dumbstruck. White cylindrical towers embellished with blue spires rise from all over the face of the mountain. Built into the mountain’s peak is a larger and grander version of the towers, standing so tall that its spire seemed to vanish into the sky. People attached to winged staffs and funny-looking creatures with enormous ears fly among the clouds. Smooth, wide roads twist through the mountain, connecting the towers.

“Welcome to the Southern Air Temple,” Glimmer says with a proud smile and a sweep of her hand. Her smile drops when she sees two women at the end of the path. “Ugh, now she’s sending people to _collect_ me. What am I? A child?”

As they near, Adora realizes the two women are arguing, hands flying and brows furrowed. The shorter of the pair is yielding an open book and pointing furiously at it, while the other rolls her eyes. The taller woman’s lavender hair is pulled back to show a blue arrow tattooed on her forehead. When she crosses her arms, the sleeves of her orange robe fall slightly to reveal the tips of more arrows. The woman with the book runs a frustrated hand through her wavy, silver hair. She’s dressed in a white tunic and blue pants like Glimmer and Bow’s.

“Hey, Netossa. Hey, Spinnerella,” Bow says nervously. He shares a trepid look with Glimmer. “What’s up?”

The shorter woman points an accusing finger at her companion while holding up the book. “Spinny thinks she has more enemy takedowns than I do when _clearly_ —” she taps on a cluster of tally marks on the page “—I have a five-point lead on her.”

The other woman puts her hands on her hips. “Those points don’t count because _I_ helped you destroy those tanks.”

“I had the final blow, so those points belong to _me_!”

“When was _that_ ever a rule?”

“Hey, guys,” Glimmer starts, but the women don’t stop bickering. She repeats herself, louder this time, and draws their attention. “Did my mom send you?”

The shorter woman drops her arm, the cover of the book slapping against her thigh. She jerks a thumb at the grand tower in the mountain’s peak. “She wants to see you. She’s mad, you know.”

Glimmer sighs. “Of course she is.”

The women finally notice Adora. “I’m Spinnerella.” The woman with the tattoos shakes her hand and smiles warmly. “This is my wife, Netossa.”

Netossa looks her up and down, raising an eyebrow. “You’re wearing Fire Nation armor.” Adora can hear the wariness in her voice.

“It’s a long story,” Adora says. _One that I would rather not get into right now._ She smiles pleasantly.

“She’s a friend,” Bow adds.

It’s enough to win Netossa over because she steps aside with a shrug and an “alright.” Spinnerella offers to take their ostrich horses to the stables. They wave goodbye as Bow, Glimmer, and Adora walk ahead.

The path is steep and Adora begins panting before they’re halfway up. Bow notices her struggle and smiles encouragingly, saying, “You’ll get used to it, eventually.” Narrower footpaths branch off from the main road and lead to open fields and gardens lush with flowers she’s never seen before. People wearing various styles of the Air Nomad’s signature colors meditate or practice airbending forms in the green lawns. Adora laughs when a team of children whizzes past on balls of air.

The door to the grand tower is immensely tall and constructed of thick, sturdy timber. Black iron hinges the size of Adora’s hand are bolted on both sides of the door. At the top, an elaborate coil of copper pipes hangs glistening in the light.

“How do we open it?” Adora asks, searching for a handle. “Push or pull?”

“Neither,” Glimmer huffs. Her arms are crossed and she’s tapping her foot. “Only a master airbender can open it.”

They wait and wait. And wait. Glimmer’s mom seems to be in no hurry to collect them which only makes Glimmer angrier. She started pacing in aggressively straight lines about fifteen minutes ago, muttering to herself. Bow and Adora had resigned themselves underneath the shade of a tree, their backs against the trunk.

“Should we…do something?” Adora asks, watching Glimmer throw her fist into the air and shout frustratedly.

Bow fiddles with the shaft of an arrow, rolling it between his fingers. “She’ll be fine…I think. Queen Angella usually makes us sweat it out, anyway. Part of Glimmer’s punishment.”

“Punishment for what?”

“Uh.” Bow taps his chin thoughtfully with the tip of the arrow and Adora has half the mind to chastise him because that thing is _sharp_. “Defying orders, sneaking out, fighting Fire Nation soldiers without backup. Oh! And borrowing Monk Gyatso’s ostrich horses…without asking…again.”

Wow, and Adora thought she and Catra were troublemakers. She closes her eyes at the sudden thought of Catra, feeling something heavy and indescribable settle in her chest. Her head falls back against the trunk. She breathes deeply, trying to stave away flashes of rageful fire and mismatched eyes—flames erupting from her hand—Catra falling into a pile of smoldering clothes and hair.

Mercy comes in the form of a distraction. The wooden door blows open with a _whoosh!_ and Glimmer’s tirade is swept up in a gust of wind. She looks murderous with her pink hair tousled and sticking at odd angles.

“Glimmer.” A tall woman with long pink and purple hair stands at the doorway. She’s dressed in flowing monk robes belted at the waist with a yellow sash. A blue arrow tattooed on her forehead points at her severe frown.

“How nice of you to _finally_ show up, Mom,” Glimmer says, crossing her arms.

“Watch your tone, young lady,” the queen says sharply. “After what you pulled last night, you will be lucky to step foot out of the temple for a _year_.”

“You’re _grounding_ me?” Glimmer marches forward. “Bow and I saved the villagers of Thaymor from Fire Nation soldiers—which _you_ left to fend for themselves, by the way.”

Queen Angella sighs, touching her fingers to her head. When she looks up, her frown softens. “I admit my decision was wrong, but that does not excuse the recklessness you and Bow exhibited, and if you are not going to consider your safety for even a moment before foolishly diving into a battle then _I_ will.”

Glimmer groans in frustration. “I’m not a little kid, anymore. I can take care of myself!”

“Your actions speak otherwise.” There’s a pause as if she’s weighing her next words. “You are suspended from the Princess Alliance.”

Adora and Bow share a worried glance. Glimmer’s mouth falls open. “You can’t do that!”

“As the leader of the rebellion, I believe I can,” Queen Angella says firmly.

“But—but, _Mom_ —”

The queen holds up a hand. “My decision is final, Glimmer. Until you can prove yourself disciplined and willing to listen to my orders, you will not attend or organize anymore Alliance meetings.”

Glimmer’s face is beet red and Adora isn’t sure if she’s about to cry or scream or do both. Instead, she takes a moment to gather herself, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, then she spins on her heels and stalks away.

Queen Angella watches her go from the doorway, her cold frown melting into something unhappy and regretful. She turns back to the tower’s cavity and stops when she notices them. Her eyes meet Adora’s and her eyebrows shoot up. “You’re here,” she says, stunned.

Adora tries to speak, introduce herself or say something on behalf of Glimmer, but her mouth is frozen. She’d never met Glimmer’s mom before. She’s only heard about her in class or read about her military tactics in textbooks. But Queen Angella’s weighted stare is astonished and knowing as if she expected Adora, but never believed she would actually come.

Bow scrambles to his feet. Adora follows suit. “Your Majesty, this is Adora, the—”

“The Avatar,” Queen Angella says reverently. She strides forward and Adora is surprised when she’s pulled into a hug. “It is nice to see you in this lifetime again, old friend.”

Adora pulls back and notices a light blue necklace with a carved jewel on the queen’s neck. “Old friend? Have we met before?”

Queen Angella nods, smiling. “Decades ago when I was a teenager. You were a waterbender in the past life and great friends with my husband.” She touches the necklace. “You helped him choose the jewel for my betrothal necklace.”

Adora blinks. Past life? “How did you know I’m the Avatar?”

“I can sense the power within you.” Queen Angella’s smile widens. “And your eyes are kind and hopeful, just like Avatar Mara before you.”

Bow steps in, his face determined. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, Glimmer shouldn’t be punished so harshly. She did what she thought was right for the people of Thaymor and on the same night she got the Avatar to join the rebellion. You should be proud of her!”

Adora looks at Bow, aghast. Is this how rebels talked to their leaders? Outspokenness in the Academy was punishable by a ten-mile run or a month of toilet cleaning (or an Agni Kai if it was between firebenders). But the queen merely sighs and says, “Perhaps I was too severe. I wish she would just come to me first before running off into the night to who knows where. I will talk to her later, Bow, when she has had time to cool down.” Queen Angella turns to leave, but not before saying, “Come see me tomorrow, Adora, after you’ve had time to rest. I trust that you will take care of her, Bow? Oh, and please, change into something less…threatening, dear.” The queen disappears into the tower and, with a burst of air, the wooden door slides shut after her.

Bow’s determination evaporates and his shoulders slouch forward. “That was too much. My head hurts now.”

Adora sighs, feeling a dull throb in her temples. She’s having a hard time wrapping her head around the whole reincarnation and past lives thing. “Yeah, me too.” Bow takes her through a footpath towards the east of the mountain. He points out places as they go.

“Those are the mediation gardens—there’s the meditation maze—and if you look over the tree, that’s the meditation pavilion. As you can see, it’s a favorite pastime here.”

The student dormitories are a pair of white and blue rectangular buildings built side by side on a cliff. “The Air Nomads used to be really strict about housing men and women separately, but the tradition isn’t practiced much now,” Bow explains as he slides open the wooden doors of the building closest to the edge. They step into a cool, dim hallway with rows of sliding doors on both sides. Bow walks her to the last door at the end.

“It’s not much, but it’s comfortable,” Bow says with a shrug and a grin.

Adora slides the doors open. The room is small—smaller than the private quarters she had back in the Academy, but the sunlight pouring through the window brightens and warms the space. A bed with clean, white linen is pushed to the corner and a humble closet sits at the opposite wall. A wooden desk and chair are positioned underneath the window.

“The bathrooms are outside,” Bow says. He glances at Adora’s boots then at the crown of her head. “I’ll lend you one of my shirts and pants. We’re about the same height, I think.” He disappears into the room adjacent to hers and comes out holding a folded pile of clothes. “I hope these are okay for now. We can go to the markets later to find something more your style.”

She accepts the clothes gratefully and says, “That sounds wonderful.”

Bow excuses himself— “I should check on Glimmer”—and promises to collect her for dinner. Adora closes the door quietly behind her and sets the clothes on the desk. She’ll shower before dinner, but right now she just wants a few minutes to gather her thoughts. She’s afraid of dirtying the bed sheets and chair, so she sits in the middle of the room and looks out the window. From her angle, all she can see is a grey-blue sky and, suddenly, memories of warm hands and cliff climbing and light laughter assault her. She pulls her knees into her chest. In the quiet of her room, without the distractions of her new environment and friends, the weighted feeling she’d felt earlier hits her so forcefully that tears spring into her eyes. 

It’s the simple pain of missing someone so dearly that has Adora curled on the wooden floor, sobbing. She wishes Catra were here to see all the things that she sees. To share in her joy of all the new people she meets and the experiences she’s having. She wishes, terribly, that her best friend was here with her, happy and content and _trusting_ , to make fun of the Nomads’ obsession with meditation and watch the kids ride air currents.

But, instead, Catra hates her. Or even worse, she’s dead, killed by Adora’s hand. She didn’t even have the sense to check on her after the sudden burst of flames. What if no one came back for her? What if she’s still there, alone?

As the sunlight wanes and the grey-blue sky darkens, her crying turns into sniffles and Adora picks her stiff body up from the floor and stands. She made the mistake of leaving Catra once, but she isn’t going to do it again. She makes a promise to the rosy, evening sky, to find her.

“If she is dead,” Adora says aloud. “I will _never_ forgive myself.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “But if she’s alive, I will do everything that I can to get her back.”

_Please, please, be alive._

Life’s been a real shitstorm, lately.

Catra shouts as her leg slams into her opponent. The man doubles-over, clutching his stomach, then collapses into a groaning heap. Catra whirls around, searching for the next attacker, but the soldiers stand in a wide berth.

“What are you waiting for? Next one!” Catra yells. The trainees hang back, averting their eyes when she looks at them. When no one accepts the challenge, she puts her hands on her hips. “Some sparring session,” she mutters. She scowls at the man still moaning on the floor. “Quit being a baby. I didn’t hit you _that_ hard.”

Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio are waiting for her at the bench. “You good?” Lonnie asks, raising an eyebrow. Kyle is nursing a fresh black eye, a casualty of one of Catra’s earlier demonstrations, and a cup of water. Rogelio stands, arms-crossed, silently beside them as usual.

“You guys take over,” Catra says in lieu of an answer. Her ribs ache and her hands sting underneath the bandages, but Lonnie doesn’t need to know that. She swipes the cup from Kyle’s hand and drinks it in one big gulp, ignoring his squeak of surprise. She tosses the empty cup back to him and faces the trainees milling around in the training square, shouting, “These cowards couldn’t win a fight against a cabbage slug even if they tried!” Some of them have the good sense to hang their heads in shame.

“Don’t you think you’re working them too hard?” Lonnie says, pointing at the man still on the floor. A few of his peers huddle around him, prodding his body. “They’re fresh out of recruit training and you’re, like, whooping their asses left and right.”

Irritation simmers in her chest. Since when did Lonnie give a rat’s ass about a bunch of baby-face recruits and feel like she could question her every move? “The rebels have the _Avatar_.” She spits the word out, hating how it tastes in her mouth. “If we’re going to stand a chance of winning this war, we have to up our standards.”

Lonnie looks at her hard as if deciding what to say. Her gaze makes Catra feel prickly and the irritation bubbles over. “Look,” Lonnie starts, voice softer and lower. “We get that you and Adora—”

Hot anger flares through Catra. “ _Don’t_ say her name,” she snarls. Her hands clench by instinct, growing hot. With gritted teeth, she forces her fingers open. The healer gave her strict orders not to firebend, or risk burning her bandages off and worsening her blisters.

Lonnie holds her hands up in surrender, frowning. “All right, I get it. No need to bite my head off,” she concedes. Rogelio’s expression is stony, but Kyle stares at Catra with wide-eyes like he expects to get a bloody nose this time.

“Whatever.” Catra turns to leave. “Just make the trainees suck less, got it?”

She stalks off to the barracks. Alone, the anger subsides and the pain from her injuries return, leaving her trembling. She breaths shallowly to lessen the pain in her ribs, but it only makes her dizzier. Shadow Weaver really did a number on her. Even the healers cringed at the sight of her purple torso. She should’ve expected some form of retribution from Shadow Weaver when she delivered the news of her favorite student’s defection. Catra’s good at reading her temper, but the strain of losing to Adora muddled her senses. She didn’t even see the whip of water lashing her way until it was too late.

She doesn’t stop at her quarters; instead, her feet take her down the hall, a left, then a right to a dark red door. She hesitates, hands at her side, and stares at the curved door handle. She doesn’t know why she’s here, and she’s not inclined to start scooping through the slurry of emotions in her gut to figure out why. All she knows is that underneath the churning, she is _seething_. At Adora. At the rebels. At anyone who says her name and reminds Catra that she isn’t here. It is searing and relentless and _familiar_ , a silent, white-hot fury that is enough to keep her going.

She frowns at the sound of something falling from inside the room. She throws open the door. Her eyes widen in shock.

A trio of soldiers stands frozen in Adora’s room. Catra’s heart races as her brain processes the destruction. Shards of glass litter the plush carpet beneath the shattered mirror. The cabinet drawers hang slack, ripped from their railings, and Adora’s clothes are haphazardly strewn about. Her books—thick volumes about military history and tactics—are smoldering and singed in a pile. Catra’s eyes settle on the blackened and scorched hole in the center of Adora’s bed.

Blood roars through her ears. Her nose stings with smoke. She realizes it’s coming from her. A blue blaze crawls up from her fingertips to her elbows, disintegrating the bandages in seconds. Her eyes cut to the soldiers and they flinch. They’re around her age, maybe a few years older. Two boys with greasy hair and a spindly girl.

The words are cold as they ring in the air. “Agni Kai.”

The soldiers glance at each other with wide eyes. The bravest one steps forward, slicking his hair back. “Woah, hold on, we’re sorry, alright? Let’s talk—”

An image flashes, one of a tearful Adora standing at the door of a teashop, spouting empty apologies, and Catra is _so sick_ of people saying things they don’t mean. She extinguishes the fire on her right hand and storms forward. The boy is lanky, at least two feet taller than her, but she grabs his collar easily, balling the fabric in her fist. He tries to pull away, but her grip is vice-like. His friends follow as she drags him through the door, out of the barracks, and to the training square where Lonnie and the others stare at her with mouths agape.

The trainees scatter to the perimeter of the square when she stomps to the center. As soon as she releases the boy, blue fire swarms her arm again. She points at the trio in front of her and says calmly, “I challenge all of you to an Agni Kai.”

A murmur breaks out in the crowd. She faintly hears Kyle say, “Can she do that? Fight three of them at the same time?”

In front of their peers, the soldiers have lost some of their fear and replaced it with bravado. They stand taller with fists held up in a fighting stance, but their faces are ashen and their eyes dart nervously at each other. A cool, calculating voice tells Catra their courage is false, a façade put on to save face. _Exploit that_ , the voice advises her. _Make them gravel_.

The audience grows as news of an Agni Kai spread. The trainees she had sparred with earlier cheer and clap as the soldiers circle her. Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio watch silently at the front of the crowd. The leader of the group, the one whose uniform she rumpled, sneers at her. His words barely carry over the crowd’s noise, but Catra understands them clearly: “That bitch is a traitor. She deserves worse than what we did to her room.”

The fire flares bigger, brighter, from her hands. She wants to punch his teeth out. But she forces herself to wait. Listen. Catra’s not good at a lot of things—not like Adora—but fighting is the one thing that’s always made sense to her.

The pair behind her strike first. Twin streams of orange fire target the back of her head. She ducks, extends her leg, and sweeps them off their feet. In the same motion, she pushes against the ground and kicks the leader square in the chest. He staggers back with a grunt and falls to a knee.

Catra waits for all of them to stand and regain their composure. They attack at once this time, shooting from every angle and Catra jumps high into the air as the flames meet at the center. She lands in a crouch, arms flying out, and a ring of blue fire erupts from her feet. The heat flings the soldiers away, onto their backs. The audience goes crazy, chanting her name.

Catra pauses, again. She waits for the sense of gratification at seeing their struggle to wash over her. But it never comes. Maybe, she’s bored. Or she’s distracted. Whatever it is, the excitement in the air doesn’t thrill her like she’d expected. She tries to muster up the energy to give a fuck about the crowd, the attention, and the fact that she’s winning against three firebenders without a single scratch on her. _This feels good_ , she thinks, but it’s halfhearted. It makes the hollowness in her chest spread.

_There’s no point to this_ , Catra realizes belatedly. _It’s just a stupid room full of stupid textbooks._ The voice is quiet, agreeable. The fury that had consumed her is doused along with the fire in her hands. _This isn’t going to bring Adora back._

“I’m done,” she says.

The crowd falls silent, tense and unsure. She hears whispers about the rules of Angi Kai and honor, but she shrugs them off. As she turns to leave, a hand clamps down on her shoulder. It belongs to the greasy-haired leader. “You coward,” he grits out. “Stay and fight us!”

Catra kicks out his knee and he topples back. “I _said_ I’m done.”

The crowd parts for her as she walks away from the square. No one comes after her. She ends up back at Adora’s room and locks the door behind her. The air is clear, but stinks of smoke, and she carefully steps over the blackened debris to prop the window open. Her headpiece falls to the floor with a soft _thud._ She lies down on the unmarred foot of the bed.

The blisters and raw patches on her hands are red and stinging, but they don’t appear to be any worse. She briefly entertains the idea of visiting the healer again, but she is tired. Much too tired to leave this room. She stares at the ceiling.

She’s still angry. At Adora, certainly. With her body spent and thoughts muffled, she feels safe enough to admit that she’s hurt, too. By Adora. For leaving. That idiot really had to have an existential crisis and make off with some strangers, didn’t she? One night away from the Academy, away from Catra, and she gets her brain scrambled. Of course she would. Brilliant, but guileless and gullible as always.

Catra yawns and rolls to her side, tucking her knees into her chest. Sharp pain lances through her, but it quickly subsides. She lets her hands hang off the edge of the bed, careful of the tender skin. Catra knew their reputation was tainted the moment the unit returned to the compound, but she didn’t expect this much vitriol so soon. How are they going to fix this when Adora comes back? _If_ Adora comes back, a voice says, but she forces the thought away. Of course, she’ll return. She has to. Her eyes track a lazy circle around the room, from the smashed mirror to the burned books to the broken furniture. The soldiers were thorough. There’s not much worth salvaging. _Fuck_ , maybe she should’ve beaten the shit out of those guys.

But she knows that’s not what Adora would want. She was exasperated enough about the brawls Catra would get into, but an _Agni Kai?_ She’d berate Catra’s ears off. She wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks. _You’re such a stubborn brat_ , she imagines Adora saying. Then begrudgingly, with a hint of appreciation: _But thanks for standing up for me._

Catra closes her eyes. Her breaths slow into a peaceful rhythm. _You’re welcome, Adora._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the sweet comment and kudos! The update for the next chapter may take a little longer (2-3 weeks) because I'm writing another story at the moment. I hope you enjoy it!

**Author's Note:**

> Merging the cultures from She-Ra and ATLA was actually harder than I thought, so bear with me while I world build or whatever. Huge thank you to my best friend for editing this chapter. Hopefully, I'll get the next chapter up in a few weeks.


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